Moving On
by Lady Jellybean
Summary: In between Harry's 4th and 5th year. Cho is trying to deal with Cedric's death, and finds inspiration in an unexpected source.


I knew something was wrong the moment I got off the train. Mom and Dad were standing near the back of the throng of people, being extremely quiet. Normally they're near the front, holding posters and balloons and all sorts of obnoxious signs. It's annoying, but I love it. This year, however, they were just there. Not doing anything. Just. there.  
  
I knew that my parents had heard about Cedric. My family and his family had been family friends for as long as I could remember. In fact, that's how we first met. Our families would meet and chat, and I'd play with Cedric. It was better when we were children; neither of us could use magic and we would always play games. When he went for his first year at Hogwarts, I remember being jealous because he could learn magic, and I couldn't. When I was at Hogwarts, he would always teach me and help me when I needed tutoring. Because he was two years older, he knew everything already, and knew what I would need for the next year. Because of that, I knew which spells were essential. And when I first expressed an interest in Quidditch, he taught me everything I needed to know. It gave us a common interest. Our parents would talk while we'd discuss Quidditch teams, Quidditch tactics, and play small games of Quidditch in my backyard. Quidditch lead to long talks about everything. He was one of my best friends.  
  
I knew my parents would know about everything. I knew they'd be sad. They had liked Cedric. But their lack of participation, their sad faces, their depressed looks. It was all wrong.  
  
It wasn't until we had gotten home when my parents started talking. Our departure from Platform 9 ¾ had never been so quiet. The last four years I always had been talking non-stop. However, this time, it was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Really. I took a bobby pin out of my hair and dropped it. It was loud compared to everything else.  
  
"Cho?" My dad said quietly after we had gotten home, and I had put everything away. "We need to talk."  
  
"Yeah?" I asked as I walked down the stairs into the living room. Their faces were extremely sad, and I knew what we would be talking about before I had even sat down.  
  
"Cho, honey, is there anything you want to talk to us about?" my mom asked gently.  
  
"We know this year was difficult for you." Dad said.  
  
"Professor Flitwick sent us an owl at the end of the year. He said your grades were dropping. And when Cedric. when he passed away-"  
  
"Don't say that," I said quickly.  
  
Mom looked bewildered. "Don't say what?"  
  
"Passed away. He didn't pass away. He was murdered."  
  
Mom nodded, although she looked like she had no clue what I was talking about. "Alright sweetie. But when he pa- was murdered, Professor Flitwick said you were extremely depressed."  
  
"Well, obviously Mom. One of my closest friends died! Of course I'd be upset!" I felt my eyes start to water, but I tried to hold them back.  
  
"I know hon, but. Is there anything you want to talk to us about?"  
  
"I- I don't know. It's just his death has been so hard on all of us." I felt my voice choke, but I continued. "Nothing has been the same. And I don't know. I don't know anything. No one is telling us anything."  
  
"Really?" Dad asked.  
  
I shrugged. "Well, Professor Dumbledore told us things, but I don't know if I should believe him. With all the lies going around, all these horrible rumors, it's so hard to know who to believe."  
  
"Cho, you know that you can trust Dumbledore. He's a great wizard, he won't lie to you." Dad's voice was reassuring, but I wasn't convinced.  
  
"Yeah, he's a great wizard, but even great wizards have bad morals at sometimes. Look at You-Know-Who."  
  
At that, both my parents' eyes went straight to the floor.  
  
I continued. "I can't know who to trust. I don't understand anything these days. Why'd he have to kill an innocent boy? What did he do? Why? Why won't anyone answer my questions? Why won't people tell me these things? What did Cedric do to deserve this? He was so great, so nice. He was going to be a famous Quidditch player, but now. now he can't. Why. Oh god, why?" I was sobbing by now, and Mom was rubbing my back. Dad ran and got a tissue.  
  
"Cho," Mom said after I had calmed down, "We need to tell you something."  
  
"What?" I sniffled.  
  
Mom's voice dropped a few notches. "After Cedric died, they went through his stuff. They found a letter. To you."  
  
I looked up. "Me?"  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Can. Can I see it?" I asked.  
  
Mom nodded and opened her bag. She took out an envelope and handed it to me. I took the envelope and looked at the address.  
  
"Cho Chang  
My friend in every way"  
  
I felt my eyes start to tear. His handwriting was so familiar. It was the same writing that he had used to write Quidditch tactics, love notes, silly little thoughts. I stood up, my legs shaking. "C-c-can I read this upstairs?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
And I ran up the stairs, about to burst into tears again.  
  
----  
  
I sat on my bed, wondering how many times Cedric and I had sat together. On this very bed. We had read and re-read Quidditch Through the Ages, gone over my homework- even had heart-to-heart talks that I couldn't have with any of my other friends. It made me want to cry.  
  
I tenderly opened the letter, afraid of what it might contain. Was it a note of love? Or just more Quidditch strategies?  
  
I pulled the letter out. It was crisply folded, and the ink bled through the paper. This is it, I though, as I opened it. And began to read.  
  
"Dear Cho,  
"Right now, I'm preparing for the final stage of the tournament. I'm so nervous about if I'll win or not. Our family can use the money, but to be honest, I don't care if I win or not. I know I act like it's the most important thing to me, but if I lose, I won't be too unhappy. I just can't wait to have this thing over. So I can return to my normal life, even though by the time it ends, I'll be getting ready for my new career as a real wizard. So I guess by the time you read this, we'll know if I've won or not."  
  
I almost started to cry again. He would never be a real wizard. He would never know if he won or lost.  
  
"I have a feeling, Cho. It's not something I can put into words very well, but I'll try. I have a feeling something's going to go wrong. Maybe I'll lose, or maybe I'll technically win but actually lose. I don't know what it is. It's just a feeling, a pit in my stomach. I'm scared, Cho, but I know that I'll be able to cope. I only hope that whatever happens will be for the best.  
"I'm a sickler for happy endings, and for the glass is half full and all, so I'm feeling excited for tonight. However it ends is for the best. I know that I'll be able to deal with the results, no matter what happens, but will you? I know that if I lose, you'll be sadder then I will. In some ways, it should be you who's out here, trying to find the trophy. You have more determination and more courage then I ever will.  
"I'm writing this because I want you to know that it'll be OK. No matter what happens, we're both going to be OK with it. If I lose, I want to know that I can rely on you to keep me from going on an overboard of depression. I want us to both deal with what happens, then move on. Because this is just one year of our lives. We're going to live as old witches and wizards, and someday we'll look back on today and laugh.  
"You're my best friend, in more ways then one. I just want to know that you will be able to cope with everything. We both will. We'll just have to move on. If I lose, there'll be other chances to win contests. We'll have to move one.  
"I love you, Cho. And I always will. Near or far, dead or alive, I will always- always love you.  
"Love forever, Cedric."  
  
I looked again at the letter. Then I smiled a faint smile. I had to be strong for Cedric. I had to move on. Maybe he wasn't supposed to die. But I was going to be strong for Cedric. For his love. For me.  
  
As I placed the letter down on the bed, I felt Cedric's presence. As though he was telling me, "It's ok." I stood up, wiped the remaining tears off my eyes, and started to walk out. It was time. I had to let go. I had to move on.  
  
But before I left my bedroom, I muttered five short words. "I love you too, Cedric."  
  
And then, I left. 


End file.
